Stead Fast
by Alis Volat Propris
Summary: Series of Oneshot drabbles that might continue: How do you carry on when the one person you love, is gone? How do you hold on to the tattered pieces of your soul? How do you be the leader you need to, when your life, your heart is buried 6 feet under?
1. Chapter 1

An: Inspired by Pirates of the Caribbean 2. Think you'll guess why if you've seen it. One shot.

She sat in the rain un moving. She stared at the ground, rain drops dripping down her face, her coiffed locks ruined and drenched. It would rain today. It was fitting. The other had long since abandoned the grove. The service had been held early in the morning. It had been grey all day. He would've liked that. Misao closed her eyes and let the rain fall down her face. She could hear the thunder crackle and brew in the sky. _We understand each other, the lightning and I, we're both flickering out_. These past months had passed her in a blur. How could he? Why? Why would he be so cruel as to leave her like this?

She fought the tears but couldn't hold back the sobs that wracked her chest.

"WHY?" She screamed to the sky. The thunder answered her cry with it's own as the sky lit up.

"Why…" She murmured falling back to her knees and weeping. Then she felt him there. Kunai in her hands, she rose to her feet and turned crouching.

"Why are you here? You weren't invited!" Misao said, glaring as she held her kunai steady.

Saitou stared at her. She was a mess. Her kimono which would've been lovely, was drenched, ruined by the mud she'd been sitting in for who knew how long. The yards of silk seemed to fall off of her with the weight of the water. The only thing keeping her decent was the tightly sinched obi. She wiped her nose on the wet material, still unmoving from her defensive position.

"The service is long since past. This isn't private property" Saitou told her, tipping his police hat.

"My condolences" He told her softly, walking towards her.

"I don't want you here! _He_ doesn't either!" Misao told him pointing to the tombstone. Her eyes were wild and crazed, green lost within the depths of sea blue. Saitou's heart clenched, remembering his own pain and resolved in his course of action.

_Here lies Shinomori Aoshi. _

_A man of few words. He loved well and loved much. _

_He will be missed.. _

"He isn't here, Misao. I think you know that" Saitou told her simply. He was about 4 yards away from her.

"Damn you! DAMN YOU SAITOU!" Misao cried, with another sob. She launched the few kunai she had left and he dodged easily.

"He's here!" She cried holding her chest. " And here!" She pointed to the ground "Can't you see? He's taken my heart with him!" She sobbed, tripping in the mud over the yards of silk, falling to the ground. She sobbed, her cries so pitiful it made him wince.

"Will you let him take you to the grave too?" Saitou stood over her, looking down. His tall form and his hat shielded her from the rain and wind that was starting to blow. She shivered in the cold.

"Will you let him take you down too?" Saitou asked her again.

"You don't KNOW!" Misao cried rising to her feet. She stood resolute facing the wolf. _I'm not afraid of you _she said silently, staring him down.

"Don't know what Itachi?" Saitou asked with a smirk.

"You could NEVER KNOW!" Misao cried launching into a series of punches. Saitou dodged and weaved giving way as she paved it with her fury.

"You still have yet to explain yourself Itachi" Saitou pushed, easily dodging her punches.

"He wasted AWAY Saitou! I thought he would get better after our marriage…he was so happy for a while…" Misao cried, trembling as she paused in her attacks to catch her breath.

"He was weak." Saitou told her. The green lit in her eyes and soon became a raging fire of jade. She jump kicked into the air, intent on his head.

"Keichiro KICK!" She cried. He dodged her kick and braced himself for the next. He blocked her with his arms crossed, protecting his face. She hit the ground and rounded on him again snarling her rage. He gave her further room as she attempted to round house him in the face. Another block.

"I didn't say that to be cruel! Ahg" Saitou cried as she kicked his shin. "That was cheap" He told her, glaring.

"The hell you didn't!" She cried trying to slash his face with her kunai. Saitou ducked and gave her further room.

"He'd lost so much weight Itachi. He gambled his health with all of his meditating. He ate little if anything. There was nothing you could do for him. Even after you were married, his health was shattered by his own self punishment and loathing." Saitou told her, continuing to avoid her barrage of attacks.

"We could've done more. In America the doctors-" Misao protested.

"Are no more advanced than our own. They're dealing with their own problems. Besides you couldn't have afforded any foreign doctors. Nor would they have made it here in enough time. Stop blaming yourself!"

" You don't know that!" Misao cried.

" You sent for the best doctors in all of japan. Megumi and the other doctors you hired scoured through every book availible, they searched the entire Oniwaban library on herbs and medicine lore even attempting to find the herbs of legend. Your entire operation bent over backwards to try and save him. You spared no expense for him." Saitou told her.

"If we had done everything we could then he shouldn't have DIED!" Misao cried.

"He couldn't help that. Neither can you. Whose to question the gods and their ways?"

"No! I can't! I can't let him go!" Misao sobbed form trembled again and she went down to one knee gasping from the sobs choking her.

"You know he fought it off for months. She didn't even last that long" Saitou told her.

Misao looked up. It was a well known fact that the wolf was alone, his wife having died from a high and dangerous fever. It had come quickly and left in Tokyo, taking her with it. He'd left his house and moved to Kyoto, a means to escape. Misao stared in wonder and sorrow.

"It felt like a piece of my soul had been ripped from me. She was frail to begin with. But I loved her with everything I had. I don't regret that. I'm still waiting for the other half of my soul." Saitou said, eyes distant as they watched the thunder clash. His eyes mesmerized Misao. They held such conflicted emotion in their stormy amber depths. They were breath taking in the storm.

"But I wouldn't let her take me to the grave. She wouldn't have wanted it." Saitou said, fixing those golden eyes upon her. His eyes held such strength.

She stared in wonder at him. The rain wasn't pouring so hard now. The wind had died down a bit. She tucked a drenched strand behind her ear.

"He wouldn't have wanted it either." Saitou told her, giving her a small rare smile. It lit up his entire face, softening the lines of hate and disdain that seemed so etched upon the face of Mibu.

"I don't know how to go on from here" Misao confessed, staring at her small hands. She still trembled.

"You are the Okashira. They" Saitou pointed to the Aoiya. "Rely on you. Clans are made and broken by the strength of their Okashira. I know you. You won't let them down" He told her,

"I don't know how to be strong Saitou! It was always an act or a farce. I don't think I'll ever be strong enough." Misao shivered again. Saitou took off his jacket and placed it around her shoulders.

"Courage doesn't mean you aren't afraid. It means you do what's necessary through it." Saitou said, bending down to look her eye to eye. He gripped her shoulder firmly.

"Others need you. He can wait" Saitou told her, golden eyes glowing. His look made her flush uncomfortably, heat rising to her cheeks. Saitou got to his feet, coughed a little bit.

"You're going to catch a cold out here. Go inside. Drink something warm. And laugh with your family." Saitou told her, helping her to her feet. He walked out of the grove, tipping his hat to Aoshi, and the others they had lost so long ago.

"Saitou!" Misao cried. Saitou paused, and lit up a cigarette.

"Hm?" He replied, taking a drag.

"Thank you." Misao whispered softly, bowing, tears running down her cheek.

"Mmm" Saitou replied, fading from her teary view.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: So I really hadn't intended on continuing this in any sense of the word. Maybe it's cuz there's just been such good Misao Saitou fics sprouting up that I was inspired to write. Maybe it's cuz I'm stuck on a road block with my other fics. Maybe it's cuz this fic was too good to pass up on. shrug pick your poison. I still am not sure how far I will take it…but for now just enjoy the one shot series and the chapters that appear!

I own nothing

The sun shone brightly and Misao could feel the sun warming her arms and her hair as she twirled in the green grass. Strong arms wrapped around her lithe waist pulling her close. She knew those arms like she knew her own. Misao giggled as Aoshi turned her around and pulled her close for a kiss stealing her breath away as their lips met. His lips were soft and silky, not at all what she had expected on their first kiss, but these were the lips that she'd grown fond of since. His kiss became tame as he pressed his lips to hers and released those marvelous coral lips for air. Green eyes fluttered open to stare up admiringly at her Aoshi sama.

"Do you love me?" Misao asked him, green eyes beautiful in the summer sunshine.

"You know I do" He replied, azure eyes intent on hers.

"Really? Do I?" She said doubtfully with a frown.

His lips on her neck sent a thousand electric tingles through her body. Her breath hitched as he made his way up her neck, nipping her delicate skin as he traveled upwards. His lips on her ear quickened her pulse.

"I love you…forever and always, Misao mine…" He whispered softly into her ear, pressing his body against hers and kissing her senseless.

Misao smiled as she rolled over on her futon. A silly little grin was plastered on her slumbering face as she nestled closer to the covers. The sun streamed in, beaming a crown of light reflecting in her hair. She murmured his name in her sleep as she half giggled half snored. She murmured, chortling again and rolled. Light poured in this time from the window and made it's way directly into her eyes. She snorted irritably in her sleep and her arm reached out for the warm body that should be near hers…arms waiting to encircle the warm flesh she knew would be there and give a groan. Her hands met empty air. Eyes of sea foam green shot open as panic coursed its way through her. And Suddenly she was very awake and sat up quickly.

"Aoshi sama!" She cried, glancing around her franticly. She looked around. No one slept with her, or near her. He was nowhere to be found. And Suddenly she _knew_. She knew from the horrible empty pit, that deep core in her stomach. She knew, with heartbreaking despair…and She trembled. Aoshi sama wasn't and couldn't be there with her. She began to tremble violently as she clutched the covers to her. A dream….a cruel, terrible, horrible, deceptive, dream. Aoshi sama was gone…6 feet under as the tears slid down her cheeks, head bowed. The ceremony had been held a month ago. Her lips trembled as her eyes filled again with hot tears. She cried out in anguish as she turned her head to scream into her pillow to muffle the noise, curling her fists into balls as they beat the pillow that suffocated her screams.

Omasu and Okon heard the scream and both with ninja like speed sprinted to the door. They opened the door and made their way inside.

"Misao! We heard you yell?!" Okon said, and then saw their Okashira in a most wretched state, curled in the fetal position and bawling into her futon pillow.

"Oh Misao…Not again…" Omasu murmured, trying to sound comforting but only succeeding in being exasperated. She sighed and pulled the pillow from her face, despite the cry of protest, pulling the lithe girl into her arms.

Misao hugged Omasu with a death grip, her heart wrenching sobs lessening from their normal degree as Okon stroked her beautiful tangled hair. She was a mess, in shambles. Both whispered soothing things that she couldn't hear over her cries. She sobbed until her stomach hurt and she had nothing left to cry, then the hiccups came.

"He was there…."She stammered hiccuping.

"Misao it was only a dream" Okon said, releasing her from her hug to hold the girls hands.

"It was so real…he was alive!…" She whispered shivering and hugging herself.

"Misao…they all are" Okon murmured, fighting the tears she felt in pity for the girl. Fortunately Misao didn't seem to have heard.

"Misao…don't you think it's time you were moving forward." Omasu told her, finally speaking what had been on all of their minds and hearts as they watched Misao deteriorate and decay within from memories.

Misao pushed out of her arms. "What do you mean?" she asked jade orbs narrowed in suspicion.

"Misao it's been a month already…" Okon told her empathetically.

"What are you saying?" Misao growled, frowning.

"Misao I know you loved him…but you're the Okashira. You have to pull yourself together or you're going to fall apart. We're going to fall apart Misao if you don't do something! We need you…and He wouldn't have wanted you doing this to yourself…" Okon told her honestly.

Misao's eyes narrowed and she picked herself up from the floor, storming out of the room, taking the stairs in threes as she flitted her way down them as fast as her feet would take her to ignore the hole that kept growing bigger within her. Her heart constricted painfully. How dare they! They were supposed to be her family! They should be supporting her. They were supposed to understand Damn it. The tears she thought she'd cried out returned with fierce recoil. Couldn't they see how this was eating her inside out? They couldn't know…they couldn't understand it. He was _gone_. The only man she'd ever loved for 24 years of her life. She had searched Japan for him. She had lost him once before and sworn never to do so again. She had searched for him for two years. And they wanted her to brush him under the rug! To forget him like they had forgotten their family? Like they had forgotten Okashira's long since past? She wouldn't. Her lip trembled. She couldn't.

She stumbled into the dinning room, and was met face to face with Okina.

"My pretty Misao…" He said, black eyes widening at seeing her tears.

Her lip trembled again and she found herself embraced in his arms. She breathed deep of his smell of tobacco and tea and choked on a sob. He was getting so old…would he abandon her too as Aoshi sama had? Would he leave her when she most needed him? Was she truly left on this cruel plane alone bereft of her soul mate? She sobbed into his hakama the familiarity of her tears comforting in the moment, weeping for her fears, her family, for her self, and for her Aoshi sama.

He patted her back soothingly and offered her what comfort he had left. As he stroked her hair he sighed lost in his own musings.

Poor child…but she was not the only one suffering. Aoshi's death had been hard on the entire Oniwaban family. Aoshi had not departed peacefully either. He had slowly wasted away. Parents should not have to bury their children, or so the saying went. Aoshi had been like a son to Okina. He had hoped one day to see their grandchildren running around. Such hopes and dreams. He knew the pain of a parent who bore that loss and it ripped his heart to pieces…Okina had lost so much. How many Oniwabanshuu members had died in his lifetime? His own wife's passing had been hell. He was the only one who had the faintest notion of what was going on in her heart. But he was also the only one who knew, as a leader, that she had to put this behind her. She was the Okashira and she had to set an example for the others. Leaders do not get time to grieve and mourn and if so, it needed to be done in private, away from the view of others and out of earshot. She had to be strong for the betterment of the clan now, as he had, as Aoshi had in footsteps long before hers. The irony was not lost on the Old man's heart. And this broke his heart further, for her to be strong she had to hide her beautiful honesty from those she loved the most.

He released her from his arms. "I would like you to attend this annual tea Misao chan. Kuro has drawn your bath for you and you'll need to be prepared in two hours" He told her, handing her the invitation.

She wiped her eyes and examined the invitation startled. Annual widowers tea….

"Jiya! I- I can't do this." She stammered, feeling the tears return. She choked, coughed and regained some of her poise. But those eyes glimmered, threatening and foreboding, with unshed tears.

"Everyone in Kyoto knows that Aoshi has departed from this world. The people of Kyoto knew Aoshi as well as yourself. As the Okashira of the Oniwabanshu, and a recent widower, you are expected to go." Okina told her simply. He had long ago learned to hide his hurt from his loved ones. Never had he imagined however, that he would need to use his skill on Misao. His pretty Misao…

Misao felt bitter injustice clutch her heart but she knew what he had meant…particularly with that tone. If she didn't go, he would no longer allow her to be the Okashira. The threat hung in the tensed space between them and both knew. Tears of anger and frustration now trailed freely down her cheeks. It was surprising…she'd thought she'd had no tears left after her first fit, and even the second, but they still came down without release…much like the rain during a storm. Storm…it had stormed the day they'd buried him…

She scrubbed her face furiously as she made her way to the furo. She had little time to waste with only two hours to be in and out of the furo and into a kimono. Oh gods….How was she going to pull herself together when all she felt was pulling herself apart? She shook her head, biting her lip. Her pain was great but her love for the Oniwabanshuu was greater. She would do what he had done so long ago…she would bury her heart and serve the living. She would not loose her position as Okashira…but it didn't stop the tremors from passing through her body, sapping her resolve. What would she say? What would she do? If they asked about Aoshi, what answer could she possibly give them? The knot in her stomach twisted further as she splashed into the furo. Courage, in spite of fear.

In nearly two hours Misao was dressed and out the door. Her face was a porcelean mask betraying nothing of her inner thoughts as she made her way calmly out the door. She shook her head at the escort offered. She would do this alone. Okina nodded, acknowledging her request and sending the others about their chores. She made her way past the gate, nearly loosing her footing. No. She stumbled and rose by sheer control. She didn't have time for this. She would be late. She grabbed at her kimono hiking it up a bit, so she could run in her geta and tabi. She would be late and that would be a bad example for the Oniwabanshu. _Bury your heart, serve the living…_ She ran as fast as she could down the hill and rounded the corner. She hit something, or rather someone, as felt herself fall backwards. A hand snaked around her wrist and righted her before she could ruin her kimono.

"Are you always such a klutz Itachi, or do you save it for me?"

"S-saitou…" She murmured, as she looked up at the tall officer who merely smirked at her. Amber eyes gleamed at her, amused and irritated, matching the damn smirk that stayed glued on those thin lips. Misao nearly groaned in the frustration of it all. The last thing she needed was taunts from the Mibu wolf. Where had he come from? And why was he suddenly turning up around her life? A month ago at the grave he had encouraged her…quite possibly saved her life. She flushed uncomfortably, remembering the incident. The awkward silence stretched on as she kept her eyes from his. She might have been able to fool her family with her porcelean face but she had never fooled the wolf for an instant. But what was there left to say? So she stayed silent, not really knowing what to say to him. She could feel it and fought the urge to grit her teeth against it. There was definitely awkwardness in the air about them…or perhaps that was just her feeling that way. Damn him. He probably was enjoying this.

"Wolf got your tongue Itachi?" He asked with his trademark smirk.

Misao glared at him and shook off the arm still attached to her wrist, fury releasing her paralysis. She flushed uncomfortably realizing just how long he had held on to her hand. She growled, he was probably doing it to _make_ her feel uncomfortable. Damn him!

"I don't have time for you right now. I have to be at the tea house!" She replied haughtily, raising her head proudly.

Saitou smirked at her again amber eyes twinkling with mocking laughter and the look that said without words of unspoken secrets lorded above her only succeeding in furthering her anger.

"However will you make it by tripping over the hem of your kimono and running people over?" He asked, mocking her. Or…or was he flirting? She shook the thought off. This was ridiculous. He was deliberately trying to make her late.

She growled, frustrated that he was getting to her. She walked past him.

"I'll be fine!" She called, waving her fist after him…until she tripped again. One moment she was about to kiss the floor, dirt and all, and the next she was in his arms again staring up at him. He feet felt weak in his arms, as she looked up at him, her phacade dropping under those dancing amber eyes. He righted her, and shook his head, laughing.

"Baka Itachi…try watching the road before you walk. You might die before you arrive in one piece." He said offering his arm to her.

Misao blinked. One moment he was insulting her, the next he was saving her, then escorting her. In her youth she had hated the man for his sarcasm and superiority. But something had happened to both of them when they had visited the grave. Now she wasn't so sure what to think, or feel for that matter. He wouldn't leave her alone unless she did. Sighing she took his arm, ignoring her wounded dignity and allowed him to walk with her to the tea house. Why was this so awkward? She sighed in relief at the of the tea house in their closing proximity.

"Thank you for your help" She said, teeth gritted, jaw clenched. "And Goodbye" she said walking away from him and removing her shoes. To her surprise he also removed his shoes.

"I said thank you for your help…why are you following me?" Misao murmured eyebrows frowning, jade eyes narrowed and gleaming, saving her look of fury just for him, hoping not the draw attention to her anger.

"I, too, was invited to the widower's tea…" He said, his smirk slipping from his face for a second as his eyes narrowed a fraction.

The look didn't escape Misao's ninja sight. Misao's lips curved into a demure smile. "The captain of the Kyoto Precinct made you come didn't he?" she asked very nearly singing the words in smug satisfaction.

His clenched jaw was her confirmation. It was her turn to smirk. Her mood alleviated, she turned in her victory and flounced into the tea room. She made her way to the places littered with cookies and bean paste treats, the corner of her eye on the Mibu Wolf monitoring his activity. She watched him as she munched on a cookie and turned, nearly knocking the group of women coming to greet her over. She backed up and cried out, startled, her cookie falling from her hands. Embarrased, and thoroughly startled she glanced into the eyes of the ladies surrounding her.

The tallest was the leader and she walked daintily as she led the group of ladies approaching her. Her movements were practiced and looked much like graceful tree branches delicately bending in the wind. The leader stood at a lengthy 5 foot 6 inches and towered over Misao. She wore a very expensive embroidered silk kimono that was pink and gold with a blue obi and enhanced the loveliness of her creamy skin. Her hair was jet black and gleamed in the latest fashionable hair style, done up and kept up with the very expensive wax geisha used. Tinkling bell like flowers fell from one of the fashionable knots and tinkled gentled as she stopped in front of Misao. She looked down upon the girl both with height and manner and Misao felt herself swallow wondering what she had gotten herself into and how in kami sama's name she was going to get herself out.

"Are you Makimachi san, the late Shinomori san's wife?" She asked with a voice like whispering tree leaves. Misao felt her stomach lurch and she clenched her fists behind her forcing herself to calm down.

"Hai, I am Shinomori." She replied simply, her own voice awkward and simple. She shifted her toes, uncomfortable as the ladies fanned out around the leader, surrounding her.

"I heard about your late husband, and his tragic end. I am sorry for your loss." She replied appropriately though there was no sincerity in her clipped voice.

It was as if she'd scripted the entire thing. Misao ignored this and bent down to retrieve the cookie from the floor before it was trampled and made a mess. It wouldn't do to make a mess on the floor for anyone else to clean up. She quelmed her anger, and hurt, as she did this. The other ladies gave her thunderstruck looks as she threw the cookie out the shouji door for the birds. Misao flushed, realizing what she'd done in front of the company in front of her. Damn it. Apparently picking up after ones mess wasn't done.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" Misao replied sweetly, forcing her irritation down, her saccharine tone high and fake, but these ladies wouldn't know that until they got to know her better. They'd never get that chance if she had her way with things.

"I was apologizing for your loss" she said, only the lifting of her eyebrows betraying her true feelings beneath her eloquent voice and breeding. She was obviously from a wealthy family and very well trained in etiquettte. Great…a spoiled rich woman parading around her.

"Thank you, I'm afraid I didn't catch your name…" She murmured.

"The late Motoko san" She replied, airily. Misao nodded.

"I'm known by everyone as Misao." She replied. Her hands played with the hem of her kimono, and then stopped herself, and avoided biting her lip to compensate. She stood silently, fighting her frown, unsure of what else to talk about. What could she say?

"So Misao san" Motoko continued, nose rising higher if possible sensing Misao's awkwardness , smelling blood and going in for the kill. "How ever did you manage to steal Shinomori's heart?" The comment was aimed to be offensive as Misao looked into those cunning eyes that betrayed childlike guile. She knew exactly what she was doing, striking deep and hard and fast, the harpy.

The other ladies, who had brought out their fans at this point giggled behind them. Point Motoko, the words drew blood, not from the body but from the soul.

Misao tried to hide the thunderstruck look she knew she had as fury quickly replaced the meekness in her eyes. How _dare_ they ask these kind of questions? What business of theirs was her husband? What the hell was this about? Was this really what ladies talked about?

"He asked for my hand in marriage a year and a half ago" she replied with a frown.

"I…see" Motoko replied, implying coldly something else in her tone. Damn her! Misao lacked the subtleties this woman possessed in increasing measure and the witch was exploiting it.

"Shinomori san was such a good looking man." Another lady commented fawning.

"Aah." Another lady replied. "Those eyes…"

Misao felt sick and swallowed her anger and her bitter retort, forcing herself to keep calm. But her white fisted knuckles betrayed any cool she had kept on her face and emotions. These women were fawning over HER Aoshi sama…who was dead now. They were disrespecting the dead, damn them. Did that mean nothing? She longed to draw the kunai lurking beneath the silky fabric of her kimono sleeve and bury it deep in Motoko's chest. The only thing keeping her in her place was her loyalty to the Oniwabanshuu. The only thing keeping her from maiming these ladies was her honor and it's increasing measure at their lack of it.

"Oh look, there's Fujita san" Another lady replied. Motoko instantly turned, eyes intent on Saitou predatorily, like a cat on a plump mouse.

"If you will excuse me, Misao san." Motoko said, politely bowing. Misao watched as Motoko approached Saitou and felt disgusted. In her youth she might have thought that they deserved each other..but now she was disgusted that the lady thought herself worthy of Saitou. She watched and waited for Saitou's obvious rejection coming, glad that at least something worthwhile would occur during this tea. Then the ladies continued their discussion about Aoshi sama and pulled her back into the conversation. Despite the ladies provocations she could still see Motoko out of the corner of her eye, and her hearing was still excellent. She would not be deprived of her private subtle victory.

"Fujita san!" Motoko said, hand touching his arm delicately.

Saitou turned and eyed the woman. "Motoko san, was it?" He asked, eyeing the slender woman tersely.

"I'm so pleased you remember my name Fujita san! I was afraid you wouldn't recognize me" She said with a coy smile and a half giggle.

"I knew your husband. He was a good man, and an even better police officer." Saitou told her voice neutral as he paid his homage to her husband and dealt a blow at the same time. He hid his smirk as she flinched under the blow.

"Fujita san, what do you do at your desk all day in the Kyoto office?" Motoko said changing the subject.

She conceded the point and in turn was drawing him out. Saitou nearly sneered at the woman. She didn't know when to quit did she? Motoko was the kind of woman he loathed most. She was a parasite, looking for the next victim to suck the life out of. Her husband, a police officer in his work, had been completely and totally whipped by the simpering little tart. Now wealthy and widowed, she was searching for her next fling. Her teasing slaps on his arm began to seriously annoy him as he listened and replied monosyllably to her ridiculous banter. He had been flattered before he knew her and her flirtatious ways, but Saitou quickly caught onto the game she'd played when he'd caught her without her knowledge in the arms of another man. Nearly grimacing from the woman's annoyance he scanned the room and saw Itachi, face pale, as she listened to the simpering hens Motoko surrounded herself with. Recognizing the look well, for he had worn that look during his first widow's tea, he excused himself, taking his arm back from the ghastly woman and going to rescue the pale weasel before she did something she regretted.

Motoko watched him leave and felt her fury take it's course. It exploded within her, her vision blurring in the storm of her malevolence. How _dare_ he walk away from her?! Did he not know who she was! She watched him, gritting her teeth, nearly hissing in rage as he made his way towards the snacks set up. He had rejected her in the beginning which made him a challenge. Fujita was so mysterious, a man of few words, keeping to himself. She wanted to know his secrets. She wanted to know more than his words when she'd first looked upon him. He was a powerful attractive man widowed and needing a good wife.

And now he was making a fool of her and chasing after that low born mutt of a…OOOooo….She took a calming cleansing breath. He was obviously immune to some of her charms which only riled her further. Who did he think he was resisting her? She wrapped men like him around her fingers. He made his apologies to her friends surrounded by Misao and much to Motoko's anger, grabbed her arm, dragging her along towards the door. Motoko narrowed her eyes. So he had a thing for the petite late Shinomori, did he? Trying to protect her and defend her? She made her way to her friends, plotting revenge and scheming over the tall albeit quiet police man.

Misao was outraged and hurt beyond all belief but she continued to smile and listen politely as the girls insulted the Oniwabanshuu, Aoshi sama as well as women who did anything outside of dressing up and attending formal teas and gatherings. She felt her body go rigid as the onslaught continued. Oh gods…after the dream and her family and then Saitou…She contained her anger and her grief but it was costing her every second with these harpies. She felt queasy and ill. Her face became pale with fighting herself to express insult and hurt. Why….why did woman have to say such mean hurtful things? They were enjoying this, they were feeding off of her pain! And there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it! Then she heard his voice.

"Excuse me ladies, but I have a few questions for Shinomori san." Saitou told them, deep voice rumbling as he took her arm and steered her expertly through the crowd. Numbly she followed until she realized what happened. Then she protested and she tugged on her arm, trying to break free of him, but that were already past the view of the attenders of the widows tea. He opened the shouji door and flung her out of it, following after her and closing it behind them. She tumbled onto the porch, nearly tripping. Turning, feeling her anger rise she watched as he closed the shouji door.

"What the hell?!" She snarled.

"What do you think?" He retorted back in a harsh whisper, angry at her anger when he has done her a favor.

"Who the hell do you think you are Saitou?" She replied back, furious and tired of hiding her pain and anger.

"Don't. I saw the look on your face. Those ladies were eating you alive. Why did you let them get to you?" He said sternly, yellow eyes narrowing as he folded his arms.

"I was doing _fine_, until you dragged me-"

"Bullshit. You were sinking under and letting them get to you. Don't lie" Saitou interrupted.

"I'm not Ly-" his look silenced her protest. Alright so it was a lie, damn it!

"Oooo why do you care?" Misao snapped, riled further into her anger.

"Because it's obvious you're not handling this well. Because I remember how it felt" He told her, amber eyes intense. Suddenly she could see into them, see beyond the cold exterior the wolf used to keep people out and see the pain and the anguish beneath his anger.

Misao's eyes widened. Her eyes which had always been so open and honest prevailed in that moment showing him what he'd already recognized. He knew that she knew he was right in that brief moment, but then her eyes narrowed again and the cold wall she'd kept in place thinking to keep people out, went up. He nearly shivered at the uncanny resemblance. She looked so much like Shinomori in that single instance.

"You think you know everything don't you, Saitou?" She snarled furious as she glared up at him, fists trembling, eyes a jade green as they lit with pure untarnished malevolence. It amused him how easily angered she was. Of all the things the petite weasel was, she was never boring.

"You're obvious Itachi. You're angry because you're being confronted with the truth. Stop the phasade. This isn't like you anyways." He said simply, walking towards her.

He couldn't explain why he was doing this. Why he was protecting her against the harpies in the other room. Why he had visited her at the grave…why he'd decided to check on her when she'd rounded the corner. Why he was yelling at her on a tea house deck. He'd simply wanted to make sure she wouldn't kill herself at first…but something had changed at the grave. Something he couldn't understand. She'd been honest enough at the grave with him. He'd stripped her of her masks there. Now she insisted on holding them high and it annoyed him, and frustrated him as nothing had done in the past ten years. But why?

"How DARE you!" She said slugging him, her hand connecting sharply against his cheek.

He rolled with the punch, jaw clenched. He could feel the swelling and throbbing in his cheek and his frustration was unleashed. He grabbed her hand and pulled her painfully close, her lithe body trembling, not in fear, in rage, against him as her jade eyes burned him in their searing gaze. She only provoked his anger further with her defiant gaze and amber eyes lit to match hers.

"The next time you hit me, I'll let my own hand fly." He snarled, eyes aflame with unsheathed fury.

She flinched, and her pink tongue flicked out to lick those full coral lips as she fought for words.

"You're angry and hurt and you can't handle his death. Fine and good." Saitou said, looking intently into her eyes, his own aflame in amber fire. His very ki around her burned her.

"Everyone around you is telling you to get over it. I get _that_. That's why I'm giving you room for your grief, and letting you vent." His eyes smothered, quelmed into flickering amber coals by his empathy.

"But remember this _well,_ Misao, I am NOT your training dummy, or your punching bag." Saitou told her, eyes narrowed dangerously.

Misao's lip trembled, frightened at his intensity and felt the tears coursing down her cheeks. She wiped them with her kimono sleeves fighting the sobs. Damn it she wasn't supposed to be weak…particularly not in front of him. Saitou released her hand realizing with sudden clarity that he was still holding onto it tightly. He handed her a handkerchief.

"I'm alright!" She protested, wiping her eyes as a sob escaped. She trembled like a colt fresh on his legs attempting to soften the tremors by covering her sobs. He nearly laughed at her refusal to admit defeat. So stubborn…

"You're not alright." He told her simply, eyeing her from head to toe.

"YES I AM!" She cried, throwing his handkerchief down in fury. She stormed up to him yelling up at him as she shook her fist.

"I don't need you or them or HIM! So it hurts sometimes…so I dream about him…what do you all know anyhow!" She said. Against her will her legs gave out on her. His arms barely snaked around her, pulling her into his arms. He could sense Motoko behind the shouji door as she tried to overhear the conversation.

"Misao…you have to walk…people are watching." He whispered in her ear. She nodded and shook off his arm. She wandered wobbly down the length of the porch. Saitou rounded the corner of the tea house after her. She was trying to make her way into the gardens, climbing over the bridges. He grabbed her arm, pulling her close. She flinched in his grip.

"Listen to me" He murmured, words for her ears alone. "Pull yourself together, go to the precinct, it's not far from here" He said, placing the key in her hand. And then he walked away, bowing to her appropriately as if they'd had a simple conversation.

Misao stood there tears of fury and also tears of sorrow threatening to explode. She took a deep shuddering breath, and made her way back to her shoes. She slipped the geta into her feet, with impotent fury, making her way with trembling steps towards the police office where she burst into tears and threw her kunai.


	3. Chapter 3

An: I have no idea how long this will continue. I stopped at an awkward place last time, but all should theoretically be explained so long as the plot bunnies keep up. Haha, really all of the endings are going to be awkward. So bear with me and enjoy the ride. Misao's a klutz in these fics. I don't know why. It just happens.

Motoko glared daggers as she watched the two. He pulled her close…and then to her bafflement he released her and walked away. Were the two secret lovers? What could he possibly have to say to her that would prompt him to walk away afterwards? Fujita was walking back inside and she couldn't afford to be caught spying on them. She closed the shouji door and pondered these things as she made her way back to the ladies. Curious…very curious, indeed. Motoko would get to the root of it soon enough. She would settle things well enough between the limp little tart and herself. And she would pursue Fujita closely. She needed his reputation.

_The next day_

Misao sighed, hair wrapped up in a handkerchief, yukata sleeves tied up as she continued dusting out the closet. The shouji door blocked out the sunny and beautiful day outside and left the room in a muted light, just enough to see and do things. This suited Misao's mood just fine. Happiness was fleeting. If left open the sun would burn her. She needed the muted light the fading colors. She wasn't ready to be in the sun yet. Birds chirped outside and Misao ignored them, making her way back to the closet as she set things aside to get through. As she opened a droor to pull out more things, dust exploded from a blanket holding the items in place. Misao gasped, avoiding the weaponry falling to the floor with skill but not avoiding the cloud of dust still settling in the air.

She sneezed once, then twice as she fought to regain her balance. Disoriented and unable to right herself, she failed, tripping over Jiya's tonfa and hitting the floor with a curse. She let out a cry of surprise, tears burning her eyes from the pain of bruised skin and sore joints. She stifled her moans, not wanting to attract more attention than needed from her fall. She accessed the damage. Her tail bone was sore that was for certain. Her ankle throbbed, but was alright. She winced as she anticipated her family storming in, wondering what she'd done now, or if she was sobbing…again. Jade eyes narrowed in frustration. Her own family wouldn't allow her the decency of mourning, as proper for a widow of her status. She lifted her head defiantly, tying the hair handkerchief tighter and rising to her feet.

She grabbed the cloth and dipped the washcloth into the bucket and wrung it out. Spring cleaning for the Aoiya was necessary otherwise the dust and moths would eat their best linens and clothing. She had to set an example. She had lost the support of her fellow ninja whether they realized it or not. She needed to be strong and prove that she was still capable of being a leader. The others had tried to send her to go buy tofu in the market and she had refused. As Okashira she needed to do the same chores and hard work they were. _I wish they would make up their minds…_she thought. If they were going to insist she be strong for the clan than they shouldn't try to coddle her, she mused with irritation.

Misao cleaned out the droors with her wet washcloth, lost in her musings and the dust, as she continued emptying the closet. She looked at the final droor, noticing a crack in it. They would have to fix it otherwise it wouldn't hold their weaponry. How old were these droors anyways? She tried to recall if she had ever run across these before in their home and she couldn't remember ever being allowed access into these. She pulled the droor with difficulty, it stubbornly refusing to come out. She groaned and put her back into it, pulling and the droor finally coming out. Eyes widened and she stiffened, the familiarity of what she smelled striking her with utter terror. She inhaled deeply in her panic. Green tea and incense were unmistakable.

She shuddered, and got down on her hands and knees, using her nose to sniff out the smell. It was coming from behind the dresser in the closet. Hastily she rose to her feet to get behind the offending furniture. Moving it aside she realized that there was a sack of gear left on the floor. It had been hidden cleverly within the frame of the droor. The last droor must have been falsified.With trembling hands she grabbed the bag, taking it from the closet and tearing it open furiously. The fabric was familiar to her hands as they ran across it, kneading eager fingers through it, as if they could hold memories of their own of the fabric's texture.

It was unmistakable. She knew the fabric like she knew herself. Aoshi's gi and trench coat lay on her lap, along with his shuriken and kunai and kodachi. Tears filled her eyes as she looked upon these treasures and trembled. She brought the fabric up to her nose, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply as the tears fell on their own accord. For a moment it was like he was alive again, standing in her presence, holding her close, his wonderful scent filling her. Ashe was in her own personal nirvana reserved simply for her and her Aoshi sama, him holding her in that golden sunshine.

The moment died as long black lashes opened, and knew again with no small uncertainty that she would never see him again in the land of the living, in spite of her deepest wishes. Tears blinded her vision, jade turning ocean blue as she choked. She flung herself down upon the trench coat, throwing the weapons off of it in her haste, sobbing and clinging to it desperately. Gasping and choking further on her tears, she realized that if she didn't shut up, her cries would bring the others into the room. She remembered with vivid clarity Okina's subtle warning to her about being Okashira, so she stuffed her fist in her mouth to quiet the sobs that wracked her body and clung to the earthly things she had of him as she prayed in anguish.

_Aoshi…Gods…Why have you gone somewhere that I can't follow? How could you leave me again after you promised? I can't live without you. I can't live like this. I can't do this. You're always leaving me behind Koishi…it's the same now as it was in my childhood…If you had to leave, Why couldn't you atleast had the decency to take me with you?_

Saitou didn't look up as the door opened. He had better things to do after all, and his mind was pondering and deciphering the paperwork and other pressing matters in front of him. He licked the page and turned it, placing it in the folder and setting that aside for filing. He waited for his subordinates to stammer and stutter out a report, or for some pressing message or urgent conference or something. What he did not expect was the scent of wild flowers wafting through the room and the sound of silk rubbing on silk and geta hitting the floor. Looking up, he realized with sinking certainty that it was none other than the snarky liche herself in his office, with something of a basket in her hand. Raking a gloved hand through mussed bangs, he reached for a cigarette from his pocket before remembering that he probably shouldn't smoke in the presence of a lady. Damn.

"Konban wa Fujita san! I was wondering if you would like to join me-"

"Motoko san, I regret to inform you that I'm very busy at the moment-" Saitou interrupted hoping to deter the biddy woman before she roped him into her ridiculous ideas. He grabbed his hat from his desk, putting it on, praying that she would get the hint and go away.

Her cherry lips shifted into a pout, but those calculating eyes discovered quickly that they couldn't penetrate the wall he had between them. So she simply switched strategies. Damn!

"Oh. I see. I asked the secretary the other day while you were patrolling and she said you'd be visiting the Aoiya today, and so I made bean paste treats for the late Shinomori san. You see I'd heard she was sick." She said sweetly.

Saitou nearly let his lip curl as he wished longingly for his sweet tobacco fixation. Irritable, not only by lack of nicotine, but also by this scheming wench Saitou felt like Gatotsu-ing the irritable woman to the wall. However things weren't as sensible now as they were in the revolution. Once talked and had crumpets with ones enemies. He made the mental note to berate the secretary and make sure he knew DAMN well that he was never to reveal Saitou's schedule ever again, particularly not to simpering idiots like Motoko. Gods if this were the revolution they would have been ambushed by the enemy. Damn the Meiji and it's bumbling incompetent fools! And what would he say to Misao about bringing along the irritating woman? She would be obligated to invite the tramp in, and HE would have to accompany them and waste time he could be devoting to working on the precinct. Damn it…He growled softly, placing his hat on his head as he walked out of his office, barely remembering to hold the door for Motoko.

Motoko grinned and followed after him once he walked towards the door. She practically strutted her way out…until he nearly slammed the door in her face. She blinked, as he made his way out the office and she rushed after him, gritting her teeth as her geta clanked heavily. She caught up with him quickly, not wanting to loose him in the crowds. She waited for him to offer his arm to her, but the offer never came. Motoko frowned as she glanced up at him through veiled lashes. But Fujita wasn't even focused on her as he stalked out the Kyoto precinct office and down the street. Motoko had to take bigger steps just to keep up with his lanky stride. Was he deliberately trying to out distance her and loose her in the crowds? Given his weaving it was hard to tell. Biting back a scowl of irritation, she wondered what could be distracting him to overlook the courtesies of formality. He was such a polished man…wasn't he? With a furrowed brow, she realized their destination and his pace and connected the little tramp instantly. He was worried about Motoko being there with Misao. Damn that pathetic twig of an onna. What could Fujita san possibly have to do with the little slut that claimed to be ninja? Ooo the things she would do to her when she got the chance-

And then it dawned on her. Motoko was going to Misao's home and Fujita was going with her. She grinned coyly. She could turn this in her favor…

Misao awoke, hearing some commotion at the stairs. She realized what she was lying on and where she was and panicked. If they saw her like this, and they saw _his_ things they would take them from her and throw them out and coddle her further, secretly shaking their heads that she couldn't handle things as Okashira. She scrambled, trying to figure out where she would put them. Franticly she finally decided to store them back where they were. She'd come and refix the droor later. Shoving it in there and jamming the droor in, she forced the closet door closed tidying the stuff around the droors as someone made their way down the wall. Misao wiped at her face, rubbing the salty residue off and hoping that her red eyes and puffy cheeks had disappeared. The shouji door opened revealing kuro.

"Okashira sama." He greeted cordially. She smiled, but it was only a half smile. He only greeted her like that when there was company.

"Kuro" She returned warmly, hoping he wouldn't suspect her as she pulled her handkerchief out of her hair and undid the ties from her sleeves so he couldn't get a good enough look at her face to see the dried tears.

"One Saitou Hajime and Motoko san are here to see you in the Garden. Okina is occupying them with stories of the garden while they await you." Kuro reported, waiting as she turned.

"Motoko?" Misao said startled. What would that witch be doing with Saitou?

"Did they arrive together? Did they state their business? Am I dressed alright?" She blurted, and then flushed realizing her words.

Kuro smiled. "They arrived together, and it appears Motoko has a basket of goods. Your kimono is wrinkled and your hair is mussed. See to it that you are properly attired before you greet them Okashira sama." He told her with a grin and a wink.

She glared. "I'm going in my gi with full regalia and every kunai and shuriken I can stuff down it!" She said, making her way down the stairs to her room to change.

"These gardens are lovely Okina san. I've never seen such lovely flowers this early in the season, ne Fujita san?" Motoko told him gushingly. Saitou just barely avoided rolling his eyes as the girl clung to his arm tighter if that were possible.

"Ah, Okina san. They are lovely" He said simply. Okina's black eyes rested on the man giving him a knowing glance. Saitou fought the urge to grind his teeth and grip the handle of his sword.

"Perhaps the lady would like to freshen up for a bit? Omasu, Okon, please guide our guest." Okina replied with a snap. The ninja appeared instantly, at his side, peeling the woman from him.

Motoko tried to fight it "Demo-"

"Iie, Motoko san, I would not have our hospitality so easily refused, we must be honorable, and we were remiss in our duties to offer you our hospitality sooner, so please allow us to pamper you." He said cutting in and bowing to her as Okon and Omasu latched onto her arms. Pouting and defeated she sulked along the path towards the house.

"What do you know of that girl?" Okina asked, in a tone barely louder than a whisper.

"She's a snake,that much is for sure." Saitou replied softly, glaring as her hips swayed intentionally with her dainty steps.

"Would she be so bold as to poison the treats prepared? Could she be working for someone we don't know?" Okina asked, eyeing the girl.

Saitou snorted. "I doubt she'd have the brains to even be the messenger.. She certainly lacks the courage." Saitou replied.

'There was a cold calculating intelligence, beneath her bubbly demeanor, Fujita" Okina said, his tone condescending on Saitou's alias name.

"I didn't miss it…" Saitou replied insulted. "Make no mistake, Motoko isn't a women who can be used easily, she's intelligent enough, has her own prerogative, and only plays those moves that will directly benefit herself."

"She certainly bears ill will for Misao." Okina said simply, shrugging to infer his innocence.

"That much is obvious. She was causing trouble for Misao during the widower's tea." Saitou said, watching the woman like a hawk until she was out of view.

"Really? Misao didn't mention anything." Okina said, peering closely at the wolf.

"She wouldn't have." He said simply. "I don't trust her, I'm going inside to keep an eye on her"

"The more eyes on her, the better" Okina said bowing as he went the opposite way down the gardens.

Saitou sighed and made his way into the shouji door as Misao made her way down the steps. Her hair wasn't in it's typical braid, but was now sitting high in a ponytail, streaming waves of silky black drapping from the hair tie. Her bangs framed her face, and other wisps tucked behind her ears. Her hair really was long, those cascading waves of green black, free from the braid, reaching nearly to the back of her knees. She wore the black gi of the Okashira, the sash typically around the neck and face gone, as it was used only for ceremonial purposes, or war. The gi clung to every curve emphasizing and accentuating what was hidden beneath the black satin fabric.

Saitou didn't miss the differences in the attire. Obviously it had been modified for a female Okashira.. One difference was that she wore a white obi tied in a bow much like the pink obi she wore in her youth, instead of the traditional knots he had seen on the former okashira's during the revolution. Of course those had been men. The other was that she wore shorts as opposed to the heavy pants probably because it was spring and the girl was used to being in such attire anyways.

He hadn't remembered her outfit however to be so….alluring before. Creamy skin, toned and well formed from her training was exposed from her upper arms and her thighs and legs not covered by her leg wrappings. She hadn't grown in stature but rather grown into the body she'd been given and grown in maturity from who he'd known her to be. Instead of a twig he found her toned and shapely. He compared the woman before him with the girl he had met and found it hard to keep the two in context with each other. Her eyes, while still wide and open in genuineness and love, bore the marks of sorrow and grief within them, and a mask, aging her, though no wrinkle marred her creamy skin. She walked with presence now, not the fumbling steps of a lovesick child. Her ki was strong and steady, though she herself was probably worried beneath her calm exterior. No one could know this, but those who had mastered reading beneath the surfaces of others. To her right and left walked the two male ninja, giving him a reproachful glare at his lingering gaze. He merely smirked, pulling out a cigarette.

"Okashira" He greeted, the mocking smile plastered on his face.

Misao ignored the look. "I'm glad you know my rank Fujita san." She said with false sweetness, mockingly bowing to him in return. "I'm so pleased at your arrival"

Saitou was about to retort when a soft cough was heard behind him and he turned, sensing Motoko's presence, as well as Okina's.

"Okashira sama, may I present Motoko san, and Fujita san, who have come as guests to the Aoiya" Okina told her.

"I trust you have enjoyed your stay while waiting for me?" Misao replied pleasantly, bowing appropriately to each. Saitou was shocked. Since when had the girl possessed so much grace and dexterity in her movements? Her voice even sounded pleasant.

"Aah." Saitou replied, the corner of his eye on Motoko, the other on Misao.

"Indeed Misao san, the gardens are lovely. Tell me have you had a chance to gaze on Lord Takusan's garden?" Motoko asked

"Regretfully no, but I hear of it's the splendor of Kyoto every spring." Misao said, knowing she what she was trying to imply. Misao ignored it. Motoko was on her territory now and Misao was armed and prepared for her onslaught.

"Indeed, the cherry blossoms are always lovely" Motoko replied. "I had heard about your early departure from the tea. I'm so sorry you were ill." Motoko declared.

Misao wanted to roll her eyes. _Like hell you were, you harpy_! Instead she nodded.

"Yes, I had to retire early."

"I thought you might need some cheering up and made some sweet bean treats for you" Motoko replied.

"How thoughtful" She said. _Knowing you they are probably poisoned_. Misao took the basket from her with both hands and handed it to Okon and Omasu.

"Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Motoko san. I regret that I will not be able to partake of them currently as Oniwabanshuu business takes precedence, but thank you for your consideration. Now if you will excuse us, Fujita san and I have much to discuss regarding the Kyoto precinct. Okon and Omasu will see you out. Good bye" Misao said, bowing.

Saitou could have kissed her in that moment. Not only did she successfully negotiate beyond the liche's schemes for tea, but she included him in them, sparing him from her dithering his work time. She had grown, with a vengeance these past few years, a worthy Okashira, knowing both social grace and political cunning.

"Motoko san" He said tipping his hat to her as he followed after Misao and her ninja procession.

Motoko was seething with fury. How dare she! To not eat the sweets, to refuse to offer her tea _and_ to take Fujita san with her! Motoko had never been so insulted in all the days of her life, and the little tart had done it with formality too. There was nothing Motoko could do about it after being dismissed like that. OOOooo there was something going on with Fujita san and the tramp. The ninja escorts that had accompanied her before, offered their assistance again. There was definitely something more than a business relationship occurring and she would get to the bottom of it and destroy her. Then she could claim Fujita for her own and rise in social status.

"However did you manage to attract such a malicious woman, Saitou?" Misao said, with a wicked smile as she made her way back into the house after spying to make sure Motoko had really left.

Saitou rolled his eyes, exasperated as he lit up a cigarette. "She stalked me through my secretary."

Misao's eyes widened. "Truly?" She asked, the laughter in her eyes apparent.

Saitou glared. "She latched herself to my arm and refused to let go, before your onmitsu came for her." He said sullenly.

Misao crinkled her nose in distaste at the cigarette. Saitou finished it quickly enough, crushing it under the heel of his boot. Jade eyes eyed him as he did so.

"Be careful of her" Misao said, eyeing him intently.

Saitou chuckled, giving her the compliment of the entirety of his amber gaze upon her.

"Worried about me Itachi?

"Who would worry about a baka wolf like you?' She said sticking her tongue out with a glare.

"That's more like you. I know what she is, Misao" He replied.

"I think I might die of shock." Misao said, smiling almost playfully at him.

He blinked in confusion. "What?" He asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"And all these years I thought you didn't know my name" She said with a peal of laughter.

Saitou shrugged. "You really were a weasel back then."

"Were?" Misao asked with interest. He was being…charming at the moment. She hadn't known Saitou had it in him to hold a conversation without insult. It was…it was almost endearing. As if they were actually friends.

"You still are, you just hide it well now, so now I must save the term for truly Itachi like moments…like this one, Itachi" Saitou replied simply.

"So does that still make you an old grouchy wolf!" She snapped, glaring at him.

"A wolf will _always_ be a wolf, Misao" He said, amber eyes gleaming predatorily.

She looked away, occupying herself by heading inside, walking towards the kitchen. "I'm a bad host" She said changing the subject much to Saitou's chagrin. Why was she so flustered by his gaze? He had half a mind to find out.

"Can I offer you anything to drink or eat?" She murmured as she retreated further into the Aoiya.

"Aah. Some soba would be nice for my pains and troubles." He said, smirking, as he followed after her.

"Pains and troubles?" Misao asked with a snort.

"You didn't have to deal with her, remember?" Saitou reminded her.

"Whatever" Misao replied sticking her tongue out "Because I _was_ diplomatic"

"Don't think that wont come back to haunt you. She's a spiteful woman. You may have made a powerful enemy, Misao." Saitou chided.

"I could break Motoko with both hands tied behind my back, Saitou." Misao replied, glaring at him.

"It's not her fists you have to worry about." Saitou replied.

"What?" Misao asked.

"It's her tongue. Motoko is connected and usually starts the gossip circling Kyoto. While annoying, she has her uses. If you need something known to the citizens of Kyoto, anyone in her circle is notified. She pays well to know what goes on, too." Saitou replied.

Perhaps a little too well if his secretary was bribed…he mused.

Misao frowned, considering his words as she pondered the implications. "Do you think it was a problem having you stay then?" She asked.

Saitou could've laughed. If anything, she would be the one to suffer from the gossip, but no, the girl had no thoughts for herself, merely concern for him, a former enemy.

"Regardless of the consequences I'll be damned before I spend another hour with that woman" Saitou replied with a mock growl.

Misao smiled, but the smile was only half hearted, something else pressing her thoughts from the conversation.

"You're zoning." Saitou observed mildly.

"Gomen." She replied instantly "Oh! I have some things for you" She replied, racing up the stairs. Saitou watched her go and sighed. The girl he knew was still buried somewhere beneath the layers of silk and maturity. The thought brought a smirk to his face.

She was back down the stairs in no time with her arms full when she tripped down the stairs, flipping to try and gain her ground, but to no avail, her ankle catching on the stairs and slipping.

Saitou swore and pitched forward, using his speed to his advantage. She was in his arms, body cradled against his chest as he looked down on her.

"Baka Itachi, Do you want to knock your head open?" He said simply until he saw a pained expression on her face.

Misao?" He asked, uncertain. Those cerulean eyes looked up at him.

"Itaii…" She murmured, biting her lip trying to keep from crying out. "I think I twisted it" She said, yelping as she tried to struggle out of his grip.

"Put me down!" She commanded, irritated that she'd banged her ankle in the process, needing to get out of his arms with desperation.

"Stop moving and squirming and let me see it! The last thing you should do is move-" Saitou heard the sway of fabric and saw Okina standing there, looking at him speculatively.

He coughed, flinging her from his arms as she went flying and squawked in pain.

"Baka Itachi. Watch where you're going before you break your neck" He told her, putting distance between her and himself. She turned to take a step forward to give him what for and yelped as her ankle gave out.

"It appears you've sprained your ankle, Misao" Okina observed cooly

"OOOOooooo!" Misao cried, frustrated.

"How bad is it? Can you put any weight on it?" Okina asked. Misao tried and nearly fell to the floor again.

"I'll go get the bandages and the doctor" Okina replied.

Misao growled in frustration again. "Ow! Damn it!"

Saitou sighed as Okina left the room. "Stop moving, and sit down before you break your other ankle! Now what did you bring?" He ordered, picking up the stuff that fell.

"Oh!" Misao beamed brightly, on her knees and crawling, picking up the items that had been dropped.

"We were cleaning the Aoiya today and I found several things you might be interested in." Misao replied, pulling all the items into a pile. Saitou bent down near her to hear her better. The girl was talking to the floor.

She handed him his jacket, the one he'd given her at the grave. It was dry and clean and pressed.

"I was wondering when I'd get that back" He said simply, accepting it.

"Yea, well it took forever to clean" Misao said, sticking her tongue out.

"What about my key?" Saitou asked.

"Here" She said, smiling as she handed it to him brightly.

"And what's the rest of this?" Saitou asked, eyeing the papers she had.

"Well Jiya and me talked about it, and I decided that we already had written records of our correspondences, and we have way too much paperwork floating around here now, pre dating the revolution even, so I figured you might want these." She said.

"Correspondences?" Saitou asked.

"With the Shinsengumi." She replied. "Surely you knew that while we Oniwabanshuu weren't necessarily participating in the fighting, we were still sending letters and information out?" Misao replied with a smile. "I figured you would be the most trusted to keep them safe."

Saitou took the letters solemnly. "There is nothing I can do to repay you for this" He told her, amber eyes gleaming intently. She flushed in pleasure at his response.

"I'm glad to see they're in good hands, is all" She replied simply.

Saitou put the letters in the pocket of the jacket along with the key and set it aside. When he turned, Misao wasn't looking at him, but was rather dazed. Saitou placed a hand on her shoulder, shaking her. Snapping from her reverie she looked at him uncertainly.

"What's wrong?" Yellow eyes pierced hers, capturing them, holding her gaze against her will.

"N-nothing" She stammered, under those wolf eyes.

"Liar" He challenged.

She narrowed her eyes. "My counsel is my own, Saitou"

"You've been left alone far too much, I think" Saitou replied evenly, anger rising as he recognized her walls, again. She was trying to hide behind a mask. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of victory over a bad bluff.

"As if you would care!" Misao snapped futhering his proof of her bluff.

"Try me" He replied, yellow eyes calm as she glared. She broke the eye contact bringing her arms around her knees, and resting her head against her arm. Saitou waited, knowing patience would probably win out over anger. After all she was already injured. Silence pervaded until she finally sighed, resigned to her fate and began to speak.

"I stumbled across…"She choked, and tears filled her eyes but she swallowed and coughed recovering well. "_His_ things today…" She said simply.

Saitou's eyes widened. "They kept his things in this house?!" Saitou asked incredulously. Misao glared at him.

"Foolish. They should've known you'd stumble across them." Saitou murmured.

"As if I would let anyone throw them away. They were his, Saitou…"

"You need to get rid of them." Saitou told her unsympathetically, remembering with vivid clarity all of the kimono's Tokio had….

"They were _his _weapons Saitou! You can't just throw that away! They were going to be for our-" she stopped, choking on the words, tears spilling from her face.

"For your children?" Saitou replied, her tears stirring his pity. Damn it. Couldn't she see this was why she needed to get rid of them? She nodded sniffling unable to form words. How could he make her understand? Saitou closed his eyes and looked deep within his own pain and the words came. Saitou placed a sympathizing hand on her shoulder.

"Don't bear it alone." He told her. "For now, get rid of the weapons, not permanently, just until your grief eases. Otherwise they'll consume you." He said, amber eyes intent on hers. She sunk her head into her hands, body trembling.

For the umpteenth time he wondered why he was doing any of this. Why was he helping her? Why did her trembling, pain his heart? His hand brushed soothingly across her back, running his fingers along the silk. The trembling passed and she looked up, eyes filled with tears but with a smile.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be weak" She murmured, scrubbing her face. Saitou nodded simply, knowing she had very little time to be weak, even in his presence.

"You mentioned something about Soba" He mentioned, hoping to change the subject. This was getting too comfortable between them and making him feel awkward at the simple comradery they shared.

"Hai! I'll got get-" She took a step forward and before Saitou could stop her she fell forward with a curse tumbling to the floor.

Saitou sighed. "Baka Itachi…" he murmured, rising to his feet and helping her limp to the kitchen.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Another chapter for you all….. haha…everyone's getting bent out of shape in the reviews that these chapters are semi stand alone ish. I'm sorry. This isn't meant to be a linear story. These chapters, if they get put up at all, may be cliffhanger esque, may not even be complete thoughts and portions. Soo yea…I'm really sorry. This is my non committal story that I cheat on with when I get sick of my other ones or am stuck in writers block. In spite of that enjoy the ride, enjoy the story, and please continue to review. Thanks

It'd been two weeks since he'd visited the Aoiya or seen _her_. It was a good thing. Aside from the fact that Saitou should have been buried under paperwork and patrols; he wanted to avoid that place, if at all physically possible. If the truth were to be told; he was uncomfortable with the comfortableness he felt around the petite late Shinomori. He had been talking with her freely…perhaps too freely about his pain and the situations surrounding Tokio. He wasn't that kind of man to be so..so unguarded about his feelings. He wasn't what you would call and emotional or sentimental man. And it irritated him beyond belief that the girl was breaking past that. That she was getting so close beneath the surface. It was chaffing knowledge.

Such mistakes had cost him in the revolution. People often died because of such carelessness. He couldn't afford for her to be one of them. However as the truth was buried beneath layers and layers of protective barriers to avoid problems and complications within himself, he feinted excuses. It was only appropriate that he keep his distance from her. She needed this time to truly grieve and mourn her loss of Shinomori. And Saitou wanted to avoid the gossip that might be caused from their meetings. He didn't want any idle talk about them spending time together, and he certainly didn't want to inspire Motoko to be any more vengeful than the little harpy already was. It was for the best…or so he told himself.

He glared absently at the numerous letters and baked goods still piling up in his office from the widow. Motoko san couldn't be more obvious if she painted it on his door. He sneered at the pile, making a mental note to remember to throw the things out before the pile took over his office. If there was one thing that irritated him most about Motoko it was that she lacked subtlety. Girls who were so…so obvious didn't suit him at all. Not that he wasn't attracted to powerful women, indeed it was something he liked in woman was a fighter, and a woman who knew what she wanted. He certainly didn't want a simpering, weak willed, women either. But Motoko was like a leech…she was sneaky and underhanded and manipulative, doing her best to entice him into her game, pursuing him in spite of him refusing her advances. Those kind of woman, who were incited to the game by rejection made him ill. Saitou wouldn't be had. Not in such a crass and vulgur way would she get him.

A knock at the door shook him from his thoughts.

"Yes?"

A messenger entered in.

"Package for you" The messenger replied.

"Tell me, why this couldn't be handled with my secretary at the front." Saitou replied, glaring. God if it was another gift from Motoko he was going to fire his secretary and gatotsu the messenger. The entire reason he had a secretary was to stop idiots like these from wasting his time.

"I was told to deliver this only into your hands, sir." The messenger said bowing politely. It was then that he noticed the embroidered seal on his uniform.

"It's from one Shinomori san." The messenger said, with a wink as he let the wolf know he'd seen his look and understood. Saitou's eyes narrowed at the messenger and motioned for the messenger to place it on the desk.

He nodded, bowed and placed the bundle on Saitou's desk.

"Send my regards" Saitou mentioned, whilst the messenger was leaving. As soon as the door closed he tugged at the knot sealing the bundle.

_-S-_

_I need you to look after these for me. I know they'll be in good hands…or atleast they had better be! (a cute drawing of Misao with a fistful of kunai was printed here)_

_My many thanks,_

_-M-_

Aoshi's gi lay within the bundle along with his kunai and shuriken and other ninja equipment. Saitou sighed. Apparently the little weasel had taken his offer at face value. But what the hell was he supposed to do with a dead man's things? Granted they were better in his hands than the late petite Shinomori san, but it didn't make the situation any less awkward. Saitou frowned. It was weird still calling her Shinomori. What had been her name before? Saitou's frown deepened. He had always just called her Itachi, or some other insult. Maki something…Makimachi! Perhaps it would be a good thing to remind her of her surname no matter how insulting she might take it. Plus he had never liked Shinomori and calling her that reminded him of the unpleasant ice block. Hmm… It might just help her get over her thoughts of Shinomori sooner.

Saitou scoffed at himself. Since when was he so worried about her getting over him? It was none of his business what she did and how she recovered! Ahg! The complications that arose from his situation with Misao made his head hurt. Had life ever been this complicated before the obnoxious weasel had come in and ruined his life? Raking a gloved hand through his mussed bangs, Saitou reached into his pocket and lit up a cigarette. It was then that he heard the scuttle around the office and had a knock at his door. Grabbing his sword and hat, already guessing it's urgency, he wasn't surprised when an officer barged in his office shouting.

"Sir! There's been an attack in the marketplace. It appears the gang wars you were worried about have broken loose in the streets of Kyoto."

"Send in all our officers not already on duty, wire the capitol and let them know what's going and send a messenger pigeon to our contacts through out Kyoto, particularly the Aoiya." Saitou replied, mind racing through with plans and messages as he made his way through the office and out the door. It seemed his plan to avoid Misao wasn't working, but he brushed the thought aside.

"Yes sir!" The officer stuttered, going about his business. Saitou gave orders to the other officers strewn about, reworking patrol schedueles and sending out more officers ahead of him incase the situation got ugly. Once he'd made all the arrangements, which didn't take long because he was damn good at his job and had prepared in advance; he made his way down the street towards the market. He set a brisk jogging pace down the street. He was startled not to hear any screaming going on, as was typical for street fights in Kyoto this time of year. Whether this was the Yakuza or not, usually during any fight there was some kind of noise. He arrived on the scene to see Oniwabanshuu members binding up the few remaining conscious fighters and Misao giving orders to his officers. His incompetent officers were even listening to the petite girl. Saitou ignored the slight twinge of irritation he felt and examined the scene. Other bodies were strewn about, but none seemed to be dead, their ki still apparent and flickering.

It was not surprising that Misao was in the midst of it all, giving orders and making hand motions of where people were to go. Inspite of his annoyance she did seem to have a commanding presence and whether done to his specifications or not she was clearing the area and keeping the townspeople out of it. It seemed that she was filling her role of Okashira more seriously than Saitou would have thought. Perhaps he had misjudged her in his previous years. This girl had grown with a vengeance, into the role she played, no doubt assisted and trained further by the late Shinomori Aoshi. Saitou's feelings were mixed on the situation wondering whether he was angry or pleased at her progress. The two Oniwabanshuu onmitsu noticed him first and nodded their head at his arrival, one heading to Misao, the other heading towards him.

"It seems that I arrived too late" He said, looking around at the battle remnants.

"The fight broke out a little while ago and we received word from the towns people, Saitou. We sent a messenger to you and headed out to do what we could. Ah, it seems Misao would like to speak with you now" She said bowing, and leading the way to their Okashira.

"Thank you for updating him Omasu" Misao said, nodding to the onmitsu who went back to tying up the unconscious men, and cleaning up their scuffle.

Saitou noticed Misao bore a gash on her eyebrow, still bleeding freely as she filled out paperwork. His hand operated of it's own accord, using his mouth to bite off the glove, stuffing it absently in a pocket. Before his mind could process what he was doing; he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him as he dabbed her bleeding brow with a handkerchief he'd pulled from his other pocket. His hand was gentle, and warm against her skin and she flushed at the intimacy of the touch as he dabbed at the dried blood around her eyebrow. He was startled to realize that her skin was soft beneath his calloused fingers. Her eyes widened at his touch and she flinched, fighting it and him to try and get away from those hands and piercing amber eyes.

"It's alright Saitou!" she said finally, trying to get out of his grip. One look into those amber eyes silenced the majority of her protests, leaving her grumbling under her breath.

"Always attend to your own wounds before the wounded enemy. You never know when you'll have the next opportunity" He said sternly, handing her the handkerchief and holding his hand on her own over the wound.

"I know that" she flushed uncomfortably.

"Responding to what we know we should do is called wisdom, Misao." Saitou replied, removing his hand from hers and surveying the area.

Misao scowled, hating that he was choosing now to treat her like a child. She knew how to take care of her wounds, and she'd lived in Kyoto her whole life. The fight was done, the other yakuza running and escaping kuro and shiro in the throng of people. Her eyebrow was the least of her concerns at the moment and it wasn't a big wound so she hadn't dealt with it, in light of filling out the paperwork and giving orders to her group.

"Have you questioned any of them yet?" Saitou asked, returning those amber eyes to gaze upon her.

"They're unconscious Saitou. What do you think?" Misao replied, stating the obvious as she glared at him. What was with him? Why was he acting like this?

"Then they will be taken into custody by the Meiji police for further questioning" Saitou replied a little coldly. She was throwing a tantrum.

"A thanks would be nice for the efforts we, Oniwabanshuu, expended to protect Kyoto whilst you were at your desk." Misao snapped, glaring up at him, frustrated by the proverbial chip in his shoulder he seemed to be bearing.

"You wouldn't have had to expend the efforts if you had operated under Meiji jurisdiction and awaited my instruction in the first place" Saitou snapped.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you needed jurisdiction to _help_ people, Saitou. I thought _you, _of all people, would appreciate that we operated with haste before _more _people got hurt." Misao replied.

"In the future you will await _my_ orders before operating or I will disband your little rag tag group myself, do you understand?" Saitou retorted.

"Perfectly." Misao muttered turning and ordering her ninja out of the operation. They disappeared within moments, leaving Saitou and his men to clean up the mess.

"Women" He muttered, beginning to give out orders.

"OOOOoooo" Misao growled, throwing her gauntlets to the floor as she slammed the gate shut. She'd get them later. Right now she was so furious she could scarcely walk straight.

"I mean who does he think he is really? Jurisdiction! Bah! I'll show HIM my jurisdiction. I've lived in Kyoto my entire life and he acts like I'm some sort of rookie, or lackie officer that he can order around! I've lived in Kyoto my entire life! Ugh!" Misao murmured as she made her way into the training room.

"Okashira?" The voice came.

"Yea?" Misao snapped sullenly.

Okina entered into the training room, watching as she aimed her kunai for the targets. She was a bit off, but her form practically shaking in rage wasn't good for hitting targets anyways.

"I heard about the market event. I trust all went well?" Okina asked.

"It was perfectly _fine, _we had everything under control until Saitou came in and-"

"Saitou arrived so quickly?" Okina asked interrupting her.

"Yea…and proceeded to order me around and treat me like a child! He told me that-"

"How many were in the fight?" Okina prompted.

"I'm sorry Jiya" Misao replied, as she took a deep breathe to calm herself and began her report of the incident.

"There were about 30 of them total and the fight broke out over some insults apparently from what the town's people said. We arrived about half way through the worst of it. No one is dead, though there were several people in critical condition and some of the townspeople got caught in the crossfire of their sparring. They were escorted to the doctor by family members, but I was planning on checking by them later on this afternoon anyways. We suffered little to no injury the worst being minor nicks and cuts, such as my eyebrow" She said pointing to her own wound.

Okina's hand gently traced the wound. "You did not bandage it" he stated simply.

"Jiya it's only a small-"

"Misao, the smallest of wounds must be taken care of once the fighting is done." Okina reminded her gently.

Jade eyes narrowed. "That's exactly what he said" Misao murmured.

"By he, I'm assuming you mean Saitou, right?" Okina asked with a smile.

"Yea…he said that-"

"He was right." Okina said simply, black eyes reprimanding his adopted granddaughter.

"I was going to do it, but then I got distracted by paperwork and then he told me I wasn't under jurisdiction and became a jerk and threatened to disband us. Ughh! Jiya I would've gotten it done I promise but-"

"Misao Chan." Okina said gently, smiling.

"Yes, Jiya…" Misao said with a sigh.

"As Okashira you are a very important person to not just us as Oniwabanshuu but also to Kyoto. Saitou was probably worried about how it would look, the Okashira being injured, on his watch."

Misao's eyes widened. "Oh." Was all she said, voice small as she stared down at her feet.

"Now, take a deep cleansing breath." Okina ordered.

Misao knew better than to argue. Doing as she was told she closed her eyes and did as she was told, clearing her mind and thoughts as she'd been taught. As Aoshi had taught her. She cleared that thought too.

"Now focus on your targets. Your aim was off because of your anger. Don't let your anger have a foothold over you. Instead bend it to your will, and use it's strength and fury to add to your focus" Okina told her with a grin.

"Thanks Jiya. Hey, do you think I should apologize to Saitou?"

"That is entirely up to you Okashira sama." Okina replied.

"Jiyaaaa!" Misao whinned, but the old man walked away. With a sigh Misao threw her kunai at the target, nailing it, dead center.

"I should apologize" She moaned to herself as she continued her aiming thinking out loud as she was alone.

"But Oooo, if I apologize he'll probably ignore me or make the situation worse. It's not fair….why do I have to be the bigger person? Well…metaphorically speaking that is" She bemoaned, her fate, half chuckling at the last part.

_Because you know it's the right thing to do…the honorable thing to do_ the voice of her mind told her. She grumbled, removing her kunai and making her way to the gate to retrieve her gauntlets. She walked outside to pick up her gauntlets and was startled by a knock on the gate.

"Anyone home?" A male voice asked.

Misao was startled by her disappointment that the voice didn't belong to one Saitou Hajime. _What could have prompted me to hope it was him?_ She wondered chiding herself for such foolish thoughts. Saitou would never sink himself low enough to apologize to a girl.

"Yes?" She said, opening the gate.

The man peered down at her, probably shocked that a girl dressed in ninja gi would answer the door.

"Are you the Okashira?" The man asked.

"I am. You can call me Misao. What can I do for you, Mr.?" She said waiting for him to introduce himself.

"My name is Takumi Sawaji. Pleased to meet you Misao san" He replied. Takumi…his family were fisherman, traveling down to the rivers and oceans to supply Kyoto. Misao didn't know much about Sawaji san himself but at least she recognized the name.

"Like wise, Takumi san. What can I do for you?" Misao repeated.

"I wanted to thank you in person for putting an end to the fight, my brother might not be alive were it not for your efforts. And also-" He said looking around to see if anyone was listening or watching. "to pass along some information. My brother was taken to the doctor, but he may know something about the gangs." Takumi said.

"Thank you Takumi san. Can I meet you at the doctors in about an hour? I have a few things I need to take care of first?" Misao said.

"Aah. I will see you in an hours time Okashira" Takumi said respectfully.

Misao bowed in turn but she was already heading back to the house. She needed to change into her Okashira fuku and grab her gear. She wasn't about to go into an unfamiliar place unprepared, plus she needed to look official as she was representing the Oniwabanshuu on this endeavor. It didn't take her long. This was the sort of lead that Saitou could use. Then she could apologize to the wolf for what happened today and hopefully make amends with said information. Smiling, pleased with herself she bid Jiya goodbye and walked her way to the Police Station.

Saitou sat filling out paperwork, grumbling. He'd had a subordinate throw out all of the items from Motoko. One never knew if said baked goods were really from her or not, and he wasn't about to risk it. He reacted with the knock on his door, blood vessel blaring on his forehead as he fought off his irritation.

"Yes?" He grated out hoping to scare whatever subordinate behind said door senseless.

"I'm sorry Saitou san, is this a bad time?" Motoko said, entering into his office. She wore a flower printed Kimono, blue obi and gold obijime standing out in contrast. Her kimono, he noticed, was definitely revealing some of her ample cleavage. Her brown eyes glittered and he mentally berated himself. She apparently knew he was looking, but by the gods it wasn't as if she was hiding them, or as if one couldn't notice.

"Saitou san" Motoko pouted. "You are always so terribly busy lately…don't you have a day off or something?" She said, batting her eyelashes as she looked upon him with a playful pout. Saitou was inwardly seething. She'd calculated and practiced every move she made knowing the Tart.

"I'm sorry Motoko san. Police work keeps one busy" He said, as he continued to work on his paperwork, hoping she'd take the hint and go away.

"Saitou san have you received any of the packages I've sent you?" She asked.

"I'm afraid I haven't Motoko san. The other officers might be playing a practical joke, or maybe the mail just isn't coming in like it used to. This is the Meiji era."

"Aww..I made some very delicious things for you Saitou san. I was hoping you'd like to sample on of my treats" She said, voice delicate. Saitou frowned.

"Perhaps another time, Motoko san. " He said, voice flippant.

Motoko was about to reply when Saitou heard a familiar voice outside his door.

"I don't CARE if he's busy, he'll want to see me- Ow! Leggo!"

"If you'll excuse me, Motoko san." Saitou said neutrally hoping neither to inspire, nor offend.

Saitou opened his door, and nothing less than one Weasel Okashira was in the hands of one of his subordinate officers.

"What's going on here?" Saitou asked, voice calm, which seemed to scare them even more, as he lit up a cigarette.

"S-sir? This little girl is insisting that-"

"Little girl? Do you know who I _am_!" Misao said, green eyes alight in jade fury.

"I doubt it" Saitou replied, amused by her anger in spite of himself.

Misao glared daggers at him and snapped her hand back from his subordinate's hold, glaring up at the officer, not at all daunted by his height. Of course nearly all the people Misao faced were taller and broader than her.

The officer looked to Saitou in confusion, hoping for some direction from him. Saitou smirked, smoke wafting as he tapped off the ash.

"May I present to you Makimachi Misao, Okashira of the Oniwabanshuu." He said, with a grin.

Misao's eyes snuffed out, jade fire immediately extinguished. She flinched from his words. He couldn't have done more damage if he'd actually physically hit her. She wasn't Makimachi any longer, she had married Shinomori. He wasn't acknowledging her marriage, or that Aoshi had lived by saying what he'd said. She took a deep rattling breath trying to calm the shock she felt overtaking her senses. She regained control, aware that they could deal with their issues privately, not in front of his subordinates. At least she would be professional.

The subordinate stuttered and stumbled over himself in apology, scaring Misao who backed away, kunai out in an instant.

"Dismissed" Saitou said. "If you'll excuse me" Saitou said heading back into his office.

"Motoko san I'm afraid something has come up and I will have to leave"

Motoko pouted but nodded as Saitou exited. But she realized that he was leaving with one petite ex Shinomori by his side and her fury boiled in seething hot rage. Damn the girl!

Misao walked, leading the way out of the Kyoto Precinct.

"Stop using me as your excuse for dealing with Motoko san" Misao said, eyes hard as she glared up at the tall former shinsengumi captain.

Saitou's eyebrow arched as he looked down at the girl walking besides him matching his step stride for stride.

"You were the one who came to my office, Itachi." Saitou said.

"And I didn't come to your office so you could avoid Motoko…that's your own problem, she's spiteful to me enough as it is. And Stop calling me that!" She snapped.

"And how DARE you introduce me as Makimachi to your subordinates." She snarled, fists clenched and trembling as she looked at him with rage.

"Is it anything less than the truth, _Misao_?" Saitou challenged, tone slippery as he said her name, cigarette smoke billowing around him.

Her hand acted of it's own accord, lashing out, intent to beat said wolf senseless. His hand, caught hers, throwing her arm, and the petite girl backwards as he surged forward taking the ground she hadn't meant to give.

"I've told you before, I'm not your punching bag Itachi" Saitou said, voice low and cold as he looked unblinkingly into those jade eyes.

"Have you forgotten Tokio?" She snapped.

"What?" Saitou asked, feeling his rage burn.

"You heard me. Is it so easy for you to brush her under the rug like you do with me?" Misao challenged.

Yellow eyes flared, anger radiating off of him in waves, his ki rising.

"You dare-"

"I do to prove this, Saitou. That's what you did to me in there." Misao said, eyes brimming with tears. "And somehow you understand me? The hell with you!" She said, turning on her heels.

Saitou's anger deflated at her response. How the hell could a girl who didn't even reach his chest get so underneath his skin? Damn her. She wouldn't get the upper hand here, nor the luxury of walking off. His arm reached out grabbing her arm, yanking her back to him. She pulled against him, but Saitou was stronger, and her opposition only made her stumble into him.

"We're not done yet" He said.

"Well I am! Let go!" She cried.

Fists lashed out, as she struck and clawed and fought against his grip. He managed to get his arms around her, crushing her to him to avoid her varied hits of rage. At least that what he told himself, anyways. Finally when she realized that he wasn't letting go and her face was red with rage and she couldn't move from his enclosed hold and he'd actually lifted her up to stop her from kicking him, she fell limp in his arms. Startled but cautious he set her down. She laid her head on his chest, the place where she had previously beat her fists. He winced, but his arms refused to let her go, and finally she stopped fighting it. Tears streamed down her face, into his shirt, and Saitou was startled to feel remorse for what he had done.

"I hate being weak" She murmured, hiccupping as she wiped the tears absently. "I didn't mean to disrespect your wife"

"I know" He told her simply.

"But I especially hate being weak in front of you!" She said, sniffling. Saitou nodded.

"I can't believe you, of all the people who would've done that…said that….I would have never guessed that you would. I thought you understood Saitou" She said, leaning her cheek against his chest. Had she not been crying only moments before she might have questioned their proximity. But for now…just for the moment she would enjoy it, savor the comfort he offered to her without him even knowing it.

"I didn't mean it like that" He said simply, arms beginning to loosen as he realized the situation he'd put himself in. He hadn't meant to be so close to the girl…he just didn't want her flouncing off…that would've been a further nuisance.

Misao sighed. It wasn't an apology but it was the closest she would get. She coughed and shifted uncomfortably, and his arms dropped back to their sides as they both stepped back a few paces and regained their dignity.

"I um…came to tell you that there's a lead with the case" She prompted.

'

"Really? Maybe you're not as useless as I thought." Saitou replied with a smirk as he lit up a cigarette.

Misao rolled her eyes ignoring the comment. "Someone gave me the lead, thanking me for saving their brother in a fight. Apparently the injured brother wants to talk about the incident and the people involved."

Saitou exhaled smoke as he considered. It was a legitimate reason to get him out of paperwork. His smirk widened.

"I suppose I'll be there, after all the Okashira of the Oniwabanshuu should have an escort in case of trouble."

"I can more than handle myself in a fight Saitou. I only asked because I figured you might want to know."

"And because you don't want me to disband the Oniwabanshuu" Saitou prompted as they walked back to his office for his sword.

"Yea" She said with a grin. "That too".

Saitou crushed his cigarette beneath his boot as he made his way inside to grab his things.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: I couldn't help it. This fic was so great and I loved the premise I had going for it. Even though I wander to other universes of anime for a time, I always come back to Saitou/Misao, my first alternative pairing love.

Misao eyed the grounds of the compound with a frown. This was on the wrong side of town for a fisherman's hut. Her gauntlets creaked as she clenched her fist, green blue eyes alert and searching as they walked. She could feel the kunai concealed within the gauntlets and it gave her comfort that they were so close at hand. This place was sketchy, not the kind of place anyone should be walking around, much less a girl of her age. But Misao had lived lifetimes in her short years, had dealt with dangers unspeakable before. She wasn't afraid.

But she was smart enough not to put herself into potentially harmful situations either. This wasn't the safest of measures she could have taken but atleast she had Saitou with her. Misao might not have come if it weren't for the company beside her, and the possible lead they might gain on why there were so many gang fights breaking out along Kyoto. It was her job to protect the people. She wouldn't let them down. She couldn't let them down. Since the Shishio incident, and even before it, the people had found favor with the Oniwabanshuu, had always looked at them as protectors of their city. Saitou walked alongside her, cigarette smoke wafting as his sharp eyes took a look at the state of the dumps they were in.

"And this man that we are seeing… has information?" Saitou's eyebrow quirked looking down at the petite Okashira.

"That's what he said. But…here? It's suspicious from the start" Misao replied, forlorn as she cringed from the smell of the industrial ships.

"Ugh. Let's get this done and over with" She replied, lengthening her stride.

Saitou smirked, keeping his hands in his pockets as he strolled leisurely beside the determined Okashira. Perhaps wearing his officer clothing was not the best of ideas when strolling so openly down one of the poorest crime filled communities in Kyoto. Amber eyes focused on the girl next to him. Her green braid waved like a tail behind her as she walked. Gone was the awkward girl. The steps she took were the steps of a woman. She was confident, and alert. He didn't miss the way her eyes flicked to potential threats. Perhaps her ninja skills had increased. But that confidence spoke different things to the learing eyes of the men staring.

He was glad he had worn the uniform. It kept away just as many cretins who eyed the petite girl just as much as it attracted the kind of attention they didn't want. Briefly he wished she hadn't worn her ninja gi. The short shorts of her attire were distracting the men around her. _They weren't the only ones,_ Saitou thought with a scowl as he focused his eyes on somewhere, anywhere else. He picked up his pace. How Itachi had somehow become attractive in his mind he would never know. He'd gouge out his eyes and purge his mind later, right now it was dangerous to be distracted.

"This is the place" Misao said, looking at the ruined remains of what looked like an old marketplace.

"Shall we?" Saitou asked. Misao nodded, taking out her kunai. Saitou placed his hand on his katana.

They walked with in the remains of the old deteorating marketplace, the crude stalls falling apart. Crumbling alleyways and buildings old, obviously burned at some point scattered the area. This place had been abandoned for years on end after the Kyoto fire and had gone down hill from there. Saitou could still remember the fights here, the blood shed. Memories were dangerous things he thought. Misao unmonitored had walked forward and decided to touch one of the stalls. The thing fell apart with a resounding crash filling the srea and pulling Saitou from his thoughts. Misao's hand over her mouth in shock of what had happened turned to Saitou.

Saitou's no nonsense glare told her in no simple terms to stop messing around and to not touch anything further. Misao flushed, feeling chastised without words. Damn it she wasn't some rookie ninja.

"Hello?" She called. "I'm looking for Takuma's brother" She called.

Saitou rolled his eyes. "This isn't exactly the kind of place we want to announce our presence in" He rebuked.

"Well we already blew our cover, so I figured-" Misao started.

"Who blew our cover?" Saitou asked.

Misao glared. "It doesn't matter. I-"

"Shh. Look" Saitou said, turning back to the situation at hand. Shadows came out from the trees, dropping down as they loomed, apparently overlooking the old marketplace. These people knew they were coming before they came. Saitou's hand strayed to his sword.

"Who wants to know?" A leering man's voice asked. The group was coming closer.

"My name is Shinomori Misao, Okashira of the Oniwabanshuu. I came to get information from Takuma's brother. He was injured and Takuma told me he would be here" Misao retorted, eyes narrowing as she filled her hands with kunai, crouching. The sinister ki rolled off of these street thugs like cheap sake.

"Just ask them to kill us already, Misao." Saitou practically hissed as he unsheathed his sword.

"Who are you?" Misao asked. "I've already given you my name, now I think in an exchange of good faith you should tell me yours."

The mouth of the man that smiled was filled with rotting teeth. "Your executioners." He told her as he licked his knife. A symphony of disgusting cackles filled the air, and Misao only grinned.

"Fine then" She said waiting. They would attack first. They had to in order for Saitou to fill out the paperwork in self defense and arrest these bastards properly. They wouldn't be able to get out of their sentence if they followed procedure. The first knife was thrown. Misao caught it deftly and turned to the disgruntled wolf waiting to return it to it's master.

"Now?" She asked impatiently.

"Not yet" Saitou replied, dodging the array of weapons that came his way. Amatuers, the lot of them. They were simple street thugs. Joyous. He sighed, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"Oye! This isn't a joke. You're gonna die!" The man cried, throwing his knife.

The bright red of Saitou's cigarette was sliced off, landing to the floor. Yellow eyes looked at the cigarette in his hand, and then saw the ash and embers flickering on the floor. He tensed, jaw clenched as he looked upon what was his last cigarette.

Amber eyes flashed dangerously as Saitou dropped the cigarette, crushing the fading embers beneath his boot, as he raised his sword.

"Now" He snarled.

"Now you've gone and done it" Misao shook her head. "I can't be held responsible for what he'll do now" She told the street thugs.

"Bastards. You're nothing but street trash, and you're in my way" Saitou snarled, as he launched forward with his gatotsu, slashing.

Misao grinned and picked off the ones from the side, blocking punches, and showing them what a real kenpo punch felt like. She twirled, dodging and weaving as she kicked and punched. She volleyed over the back of a particularly large one, dragging her kunai down his back and kicking his head, as she moved onto to her next target. Misao rolled beneath her next tall opponent's legs, giving him a swift kick in the groin as she dived, flipping to her feet, and round house kicking the next street thug in the face as she took a breathe. Grinning like a bobcat, Misao launched her next set of kunai, impaling the hand of the nearest street thug thinking to get an arrow into Saitou.

"We need them alive, remember!" She huffed at the wolf. He was simply working his way through the throng of them, slashing, and slicing, a blur of controlled chaos through the crowd.

"Don't tell me how to do my job" Saitou growled, as he sent fur of them flying, sailing through the air.

"Maybe we should start collecting information now?" Misao prompted. Saitou glared.

"Don't tell me how to do my job" Saitou's gruff reply nearly made her giggle.

"I wouldn't if you would start doing it" Misao replied, hands on her hips.

"They're starting to run. They'll be more willing to give information if they start to scatter." Saitou replied.

Translation. He wanted to beat them some more because he was bitter that they actually managed to slice his last cigarette that he wasn't finished with. Misao shrugged. It didn't particularly matter to her so long as she got the information they'd come for and really beating up random street thugs was excellent stress relief. She kicked the next one, using his knee to leap and kick the next one in the face. Three of them caught her, but Misao freed her leg, twirling as she tumbled and landed, safe. She turned, and took the brunt of a nasty kick in the face.

"Augh.." Misao bit off her choke of pain as she prepared for the next attack. Startled she saw the man freeze, and then realized why. Saitou's sword skewered the man. With a flick of the sharp blade he sent the body flying to the left of him as he stood in front of Misao.

"They're scattering." He told her, eying her purpling face.

Misao glowered, irritated that for all the training she'd done she still managed to get hurt. She had been improving damn it! Even Okina said so. It wasn't enough apparently.

Saitou sheathed his sword, as he put his gloved hands beneath her chin, forcing her to look up at him. Amber eyes met confused jade, but his eyes were looking intently on the wound. He brought his other gloved hand up to gently prod the bruised area, illiciting a hiss of muffled pain from Misao.

"You'll have a lovely shade of purple in the morning. That was careless of you" He chided, amber eyes indignant as he looked at her.

Misao bristled. "I'm sorry I can't be perfect." She snapped.

"That job is already taken by me." He smirked.

"OOOooo…perfect my ass!You let them cut your sleaves!" She scowled.

"It was that or my head. Make sure you know who's there before you decide to land next time, Itachi" Saitou said, turning as he drew his katana.

"I don't need you to tell me what to do, Saitou!" Misao yowled.

Saitou smirked, glad to have rid himself of another piece of trash, as he took sight of the fleeing gang members. Honing in on the ki of one, he took off sprinting after him, sword blade flat and ready.

"Aya! Wait up!" She cried, following him, pumping her arms and legs as she sprinted, trying to catch up with him.

Saitou had caught up with him in no time, god like speed allowing him to knock the man on the head with the flat of his blade, stunning him as he stumbled. Saitou kicked the man, forcing him into the crumbling alley as Misao caught up.

Turqouise and Amber glared vehemently at the cowering excuse for a man that was trapped like the rat he was.

"W-what do you want?" He stammered, gasping for breathe. Apparently Saitou's kick had winded him.

"Information" Saitou answered coldly.

Misao pulled out her kunai and began to clean them, wiping the blood off with a handkerchief she kept in spare. Her unspoken words were intentional and clear. _Try anything and I'll kill you._

The man swallowed, the sweat trickling down his brow, along with the blood from a cut on his forehead.

"Start talking, worm." Saitou ordered.

"Ahg!" The man jumped, terrified for his life and Saitou rolled his eyes. He smelled awful, the disgusting tang of his sweat and blood wreaking as the man continued to blubber.

"W-what do you want to know? Ah..don't kill me! Please"

"Your life depends on you _speaking_. Talk! Who are you? Who do you work for?" Saitou snapped.

"Alright alright! My name is Hayori Nakasuwa. Takuma doesn't have a brother. It was set up to get her out of the picture. Petite little bitch has been causing trouble for the OW-" The man cried out as Saitou cuffed him.

"Trash like you has no business calling her that. Who do you work for?" Saitou snarled.

Misao was surprised by the ferocity of his tone, particularly in and for her regard. _Saitou, why are you defending me to street trash? Why is this bothering someone like you, who knows he doesn't know how to talk any better? Don't let him get to you _She looked at the quivering man and back at Saitou's back, his ki terrifying the common street thug and reducing him to the blubbering and pleading mess she saw before them.

"I work for a man named Hiro Mayumi. He's the one that wants the Okashira out of the picture. He figures that the Oniwabanshuu is what's been the problem in Kyoto for a while and if he gets rid of them, he'll have more reign over the streets of Kyoto. I don't know what he wants yet…but he pays well. My family is starving…please!" He pleaded

Saitou grimaced. With the complete switch over from government systems people were starving, trying to find work in such difficult times and trying to make money to feed ones family was exceedingly difficult. This man had turned to pick pocketing and trash like Hiro in desperation. Saitou's eyes narrowed. Hiro was taking advantage of the people. Whoever he was, Saitou would slay him like the dog he was and return retribution for his wrongs tenfold.

_Not a bad strategy though_, Saitou thought as he assimilated the information the weeping man had given him thus far. The Oniwabanshuu were the reason why Shishio's arson plan didn't work, and had kept the peace in Kyoto since the time of the revolution and the fall of the shogunate. Saitou grimaced. If the man was smart enough to see that the Oniwabanshuu were a potential threat, then their operation must be bigger than he had previously thought. Damn it. How the hell had his organization let someone this filthy slip under the radar? He would have to devote the man power and the hours to see this through. And it would be his own personal hours of investment to make sure this little coup was put down. He would have to seriously pursue this and more importantly keep Misao from getting herself into trouble the girl couldn't possibly get herself out of. Fuck.

"Who is he? What's his status?" Saitou demanded.

"He's my boss. I think he has someone hire up- Oh kami sama don't hurt me! I'm telling you what I know" He cried, whimpering as he squirmed against Saitou's hold on his neck.

"What does he do?"

"I think he's a business man, OUCH kami sama I'm telling you I don't know!" Hayori gasped.

"Who's the higher up" Saitou snarled, slamming his head against the alleyway.

"Ow- ahg, I don't know. OUCH I said I don't know! He receives telegrams from him I swear, that's all I know" Hayori cried.

Saitou regarded the man intently and turned his back on him.

"Y-you're not gonna kill me?" He stammered.

"No." Saitou said with a smirk as he turned. "What your boss will do to you when he finds out you rat-ed him out to a police officer will be far worse." Saitou replied.

The man blanched, and ran.

Misao frowned. "That wasn't exactly protocol was it?" She asked.

"Chee, We will see him again. Undoubtably." Saitou replied as he stretched his arms walking out of the alley. The other bodies were still scattered around. Saitou cursed as he looked around.

"I'll have to bring over officers to clean this mess up. Damn, even dead they create more paperwork" He grumbled.

"How can you be sure?" Misao asked skeptically.

"Because paperwork is the only surety in my line of work"

Misao scowled, impatiently. Saitou smirked.

"The only way he will be able to redeem himself will be to come after us again and finish the job he started. That is standard protocol. If he survives his boss's beating he'll be angry and looking for revenge. Besides he's more useful to us alive for the time being then dead. When he does show again we will be ready for him. Follow the rat, it will lead you to the nest." He told her.

Misao frowned. "We?"

"Yes. We. Got a problem with that?" Saitou asked her, as his fingers itched for a cigarette.

Misao looked away "Maybe." She replied.

"And what pray tell is your problem now, Itachi?" Saitou asked, as they walked away from the marketplace and back into the better areas of Kyoto. He wasn't about to let her think that she could slip through the cracks on this one. He was going to have her tailed on top of him monitoring her comings and goings personally. If she was the target, Saitou wasn't going to take any chances.

"Only that I don't need you shadowing me." She replied. "I can take care of myself." She glared.

What Misao failed to realize was that she wasn't necessarily politically or socially important, but she was an icon. Misao's strength lay in the fact that she was important as a figurehead. Should the okashira of the Oniwabanshuu die the people would loose hope. It didn't matter who, or what or how. It didn't matter that she was a mere slip of a girl who should never have had responsibility thrust on her so soon. It didn't matter that she was a grieving widow. If they killed her, Kyoto's people would loose heart, loose spirit when all it would take is the shifting of the scales. The meiji was not yet as stable as everyone would like it to be. Obu was right when he said it would take another ten years and his death had drastically set back the progress made in stabilizing the meiji era.

"Like you showed me today?" He retorted. Misao's eyes narrowed.

"Those were isolated incidents that-"

"Happened anyways. You're not going to talk me out of this. I'm sure Okina will agree once I speak to him."

"Damn it Saitou! I am the Okashira of the Oniwabanshuu! Stop treating me like a child. I'm a grown woman. I've been married. I've traveled on my own across the country. Stop acting like I'm useless!" She cried.

Saitou's eyes narrowed. "And look at how much trouble you got into then. Were it not for me and Battousai saving your ass, you wouldn't be here. If you want to do something about it, then continue to get stronger so that others don't have to protect you. But until then, you're important enough to protect, and I refuse to let anything happen to you on my watch so while your under my protection you will take it and like it, so quit your whining and let's go." Saitou replied curtly.

Misao opened her mouth to reply, but closed it frowning.

_You say all these things Saitou, but you don't know what they mean…or the affect they have. _She thought as she followed after him.


End file.
